


Can we be friends again?

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Spanking, basically just sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 07:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13993806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Oswald and Riddler are cellmates in Arkham. Imprisoned in a small space with little else to do... Things get intimate.





	Can we be friends again?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that scene toward the end of 4x14.

Ed, no, Riddler, braced his hands against the disquietingly yellowed walls of their Arkham cell. Oswald was trapped between them. 

Perhaps ‘trapped’ was an inaccurate term. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be anywhere else.

The Riddler’s eyes almost looked black, and the unpleasant fluorescent lighting of the room caught on the lenses of his glasses, creating a sharp contrast of light and dark. Oswald shivered with anticipation. 

The taller man smiled, all teeth, and removed one hand from the wall, replacing it on Oswald’s throat. The former King of Gotham, the former Mayor of Gotham, whimpered. 

“Please.” He begged, and all at once, he let himself crumple into him. He didn’t care how he appeared. He didn’t care if it looked desperate. 

God, he  _ was  _ desperate. 

His open submission rewarded him. Riddler pulled him up so he was no longer leaning on him, propping him up with kisses and bites, all with his hand still on his throat.

Oswald wrapped his arms around Riddler’s narrow shoulders, his fingers twitching at each sharp nip of those white teeth, at each long suck of those soft, warm lips.

He whimpered again, more urgently. Body tightening. 

Waves of pleasure coursed through him. Built up too fast.

“Ah!”

The light friction of the other man’s body rubbing against his cock had been too much. Warmth flooded the front of his pants. Riddler giggled, a little cruelly, into his ear. 

“Well, I never-”

“Oh, be quiet.” Oswald huffed, cheeks pink. But that was a useless order. As if the Riddler, or Ed for that matter, could ever be quiet. 

“I suppose we’ll just have to try again later.” 

Oswald let out a long sigh. Then, his breath caught in his throat when he felt Riddler’s hand wrap around his arm, and tug him forward. He yelped, and fell, with little dignity, face first onto the creaky bed that he had had the misfortune of sleeping on every night since he had been recommitted to Arkham.

“Edward!” He complained, scolded, but Riddler cut him off with a hard slap to his ass.

He flinched. The warmth from the smack radiated beneath the pyjama-like fabric of his uniform, sending a subtle, yet tingling excitement coursing through his body.

“Riddler.” He corrected himself. 

“That’s better.” Riddler agreed, and he rubbed over the area he had just swatted for a good few seconds, just until Oswald had grown comfortable with it and was hoping for more attention like that, then he pulled off his pants with one quick, fluid movement.

Oswald felt a sudden flurry of emotions at being so exposed, he quickly identified the cocktail as ‘panic’ and began to turn around to try to save himself from further embarrassment. But his new partner and cellmate had no inclination to let that happen. He slapped him on the ass again, and the sound was sharper on the bare flesh. And it stung more.

“Ow!” He protested. “Ed- I-”

Another smack.

“I already told you,  _ Oswald _ . That isn’t my name.” 

Oswald lost count of the strikes after that. He would guess they numbered about two dozen, but honestly, that hardly mattered. All that he knew was that they hurt, and that he was ashamed that part of him  _ liked  _ them.

The sting distracted from his nervousness at being stripped from the waist down, and the intensity of the sounds they made against his flesh nearly drowned out his own undignified grunts and whimpers.

Gradually, they slowed down, the heat now radiating off his ass, and Oswald found, as Riddler kneaded the tender, blushing skin, that he was getting hard again.

He had no idea he had the capacity to get turned on again so quickly. 

He heard Riddler lowering his own pants, and his heart began to thud all the faster inside of his chest. 

“Riddler.” He was thankful that he got his name right this time. As exciting as it had been to get spanked, he wanted to be able to sit down later. “We don’t have any… I mean… You know.”

He hadn’t dared experiment much with himself back there, but from what little he had secretly indulged in… He knew that they would need lubrication.

“Relax.” Riddler replied, although he didn’t sound relaxed either. His voice was tight, wound up with arousal and impatience, and Oswald couldn’t help but be oddly proud at that. “I’m not going to do that to you. Not yet.”

Oswald was somewhere between relieved and disappointed, but not for long. 

When Riddler pressed his body against his back, cock hard and poking against the softest, fullest part of his ass, he realised that even if he wasn’t going to be fucked, he was going to be everything but.

“When I do that to you, I want it to be out there. Not in this…  _ cage. _ ”

Feeling Riddler’s breath against the side of his neck as he professed that intention was almost romantic. Oswald nodded, and sighed out a barely audible agreement.

The narrow, thin, bed wasn’t made for two people. It made squeaky sounds of protests at each movement of Riddler’s hips, but Oswald, who would usually find such a sound irritating, didn’t care. He barely registered it. He barely registered anything beyond how it  _ felt. _

The heat. 

It was building up inside him again, but more steadily, less erratically, than before. 

He could feel it radiating off of the Riddler’s body too. 

His ass hurt. The way Riddler was rubbing against him brought out the tenderness from before. But Oswald didn’t complain. 

He mumbled out Ed, no, Riddler’s name into the bed. 

Long fingers tangled through his dark hair, and a surprisingly deft tongue lapped at his jaw, making him shiver and plead. 

Finally, just when he was about to beg for it, Riddler reached beneath him, and began to touch his cock. Oswald was thankful that he didn’t draw it out. He stroked him in time with the movements of his hips. Fast, jagged, desperate.

When he came the second time, it was with Riddler.

Afterwards, he lay flat on Oswald’s back for a moment. Then he rolled off to the side, and pulled up his pants. Oswald reached out, but missed him. 

His fingertips brushed against his arm, failing to grip, and Riddler looked at him with a slightly curious expression on his face. Then he smiled. It was charming, and bookish, and almost like  _ Ed. _

He lay back down beside Oswald, even though the bed was too small, and Oswald cuddled in close to him. His head rested against the other man’s chest. He could hear the thud of his heartbeat, and he began to think to himself how he would be happy whether it was Ed or the Riddler holding him like this.


End file.
